A Cowboy's Lullaby, Continued
by Nisse720
Summary: Sully and Michaela reflect on new feelings for one another rising out of the events surrounding the Season 1 Episode, A Cowboy's Lullaby. An extended last scene to the episode. A pre-courtship exploration of their affection for one another.


A Cowboy's Lullaby, Continued…

I watched A Cowboy's Lullaby again recently, and was struck by the meaningful looks exchanged between M & S throughout the episode, especially while [ahem] "not-Sully's-best-friend-Daniel-but-a-Cowboy-named-Red-McCall" [ahem] was singing the lullaby. And I am convinced Sully gave up Hanna's toys and clothes to baby Mike because he foresaw something greater to come with Michaela. It made me want to expand their thoughts, and perhaps the ending scene :) This is Season One: pre-courtship.

Characters do not belong to me.

McCall and baby Mike moved towards the barn to settle for the night, and Michaela turned to look after them.

Sully studied her, the soft moonlight making her features glow. Wide, shimmering eyes accentuating the feminine curves of her nose and cheeks, coppery strands curling gently around her face. His heart expanded in his chest, the pressure making it difficult for him to stand still. To not embrace her.

Seeing her with the kids had always warmed his heart. Watching her transform from the strong, principled doctor to the soft, nurturing mother made each role more special, more loveable. But seeing her with baby Mike, the way she immediately welcomed him into her arms, snuggled him, the sound of her voice as she sang lullabies to him; that had moved him more, somehow. She was so tender, soft, so sweet, so warm – there was a security in her arms for her children that was palpable.

And it made him want to protect her. They needed her; her presence was nourishing to them. When he found her trapped in the old cabin with the bear pacing outside, it wasn't just the girl he was sweet on, it was this ethereal, motherly being. When she voiced her determination to find the baby a home, it wasn't just the strong-minded physician, it was this caring, tender spirit, too. There was so much to her, she was so complex, so compelling.

And it meant that in moments like this, when he was about to head off to his lean-to for the night, his refuge in the woods was the last place he wanted to be. No, he wanted to place his hand at the small of her back, kiss her temple, guide her inside. He wanted to watch her let her hair down, coppery waves shimmering in the firelight, slip into a nightgown, ready for bed. He wanted to turn down the lamps, stoke the fire, welcome her into his arms. Gather him to her under the warm covers, her soft, delicate form snuggled into the shelter of his larger, harder one. Reveling in her sweetness, her softness in the warm, fire-lit room.

And then just to hold her, maybe whisper quietly about the day, the kids' antics, or maybe just say nothing at all. Just be. Together.

And maybe, maybe after several nights like this in the closeness and intimacy of the soft covers, they would welcome their own baby. Yeah, with her eyes, those brilliant, wide eyes, and her sharp intelligence, and her tenderness. What a sparky, sparkling child it would be. And he would watch her love it, nurture it, and teach it as she did the other three. But it would be theirs. His. She would be his baby's mother – the thought made his heart race in anticipation. The possibility thrilled him.

Michaela turned to him, noticing he was far away in his own world already. She had hoped for a little conversation, feeling they had connected recently in a new and special way. But his mind was already headed back into the forest, it appeared. She sighed softly, slightly disappointed.

"Goodnight, Sully." Her voice was soft, light. Just a touch of hope. She turned and lifted her skirts to ascend the few steps to the door.

Realizing he'd been lost in his thoughts, he reached out to her suddenly, rough fingertips brushing the fine cotton of her blouse.

"Wait." His voice sounded rough in the cool night air. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to ask her, to make her stay outside with him a little longer. She turned back to him, her eyes questioning his. Waiting for him to speak, relieved to prolong the evening, just a little. "Are… ya ok? With givin' 'im back?"

She looked down, sad to have lost little Mike, now that she had decided to keep him. She looked into Sully's eyes, and shrugged slightly, folding her arms around her. "I'm alright… I'll… I'll miss him." Her eyes glistened a little, and he smiled at her emotion. How quick she was to love.

"Yeah," he breathed. They gazed at one another, sharing silently the events of the past week. Did he mean he would miss him too, or just that he understood? Somehow, it didn't matter which. He cared.

She suddenly felt so grateful for him. For his support and protectiveness. His fierce, steadfast commitment to what was right was tempered with so much tenderness, gentleness when it came to the children. And… her. He was a fortress of strength and comfort for Brian at such an impressionable, tender age. His strength was at once frightening for its power and reassuring for its love and goodness. She felt compelled to tell him how much he meant to her. How he gave her the courage to stay here, to build a life here. To love the children. To care…

"Sully? I want to thank you for offering to take him. It was good of you to be willing to help him, despite your… your… circumstances." He nodded almost imperceptibly. She smiled to herself at his characteristic gesture, a habit that she had grown to treasure, it was just so… him. "I know he would have benefited from your love…" she continued, "and your care. "

She seemed like she wanted to say more, but she stopped. "Was the least I could do. I wanna help however I can."

"I know, Sully. And I'm grateful." Their gazes held one another, the knowledge and intimacy of unspoken thoughts and feelings connecting them in the still night. She shivered in the deepening cold, and he stepped forward, rubbing her arms, trying valiantly to ignore how his heart was responding to their proximity. He hadn't meant the movement to be intimate, just… he wanted to take care of her. But yet, she was even more beautiful, overwhelmingly so, this close up.

"Ya were real good with 'im. Like ya are with all the kids. Ya woulda given 'im a good life." His voice was deep and soft, and he smiled encouragingly, sympathetically, his hands still warming her arms. His eyes were warm, affectionate, holding hers and communicating something safe, comfortable, that she couldn't quite identify.

She smiled shyly, warmed by his sweetness in this moment as much as she was by his hands. "Thank you," she whispered.

Sweet, intoxicating affection for her filled him at her soft, vulnerable expression just then. He felt drawn to her, and her eyes, those eyes so open and expressive. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers, kissing the corner of her mouth softly, sweetly before pressing his lips fully against hers. Anticipation rushed through their veins at the contact, flooding both with warmth, with love, with hope for a future. Her heart rose and swelled in her chest as his lips lingered on hers. He withdrew only a breath away, brushing her nose with his own, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, savoring this moment.

His warmth, his scent, his touch invaded her, and she felt immersed in him. Was this how it would be to be loved by him? To be his? Comfort like this, so all-encompassing and affirming? She knew instinctively that it was true, and she would have to dwell in these moments, few and far between, for the time being. It wasn't often that either one let their guard down in this way. And until… until later, hopefully sometime not too long from now, this would do.

He wanted to put his arms around her, draw her closer, but he resisted. He had already let go of Hanna's trunk tonight – for baby Mike – and he knew he could only let go of his past one step at a time. For Michaela. Foreshadowing of his relationship with her, the life they might have, had made him do it. And it made him feel… good. But he couldn't rush, or he might regret it. He had to properly let go of each piece of his past, before he could with a clear heart pick up a new life. But now, in this moment, he realized he had a reason to do it. For her. To keep her in his life. This fascinating, breathtaking woman. This tender, compassionate mother.

He filled his chest with air, her sweet, fresh scent filling him, and stepped back a little, his hands moving to her shoulders. She looked up at him, sparkling emerald and amber unveiled before him, and he knew. In time. Time, for them, would fulfill all things. For now, hope and anticipation would move them forward.

Involuntarily, his hand came up to caress the flushed curve of her cheek, and he couldn't keep the smile from his eyes, sparkling cobalt in the moonlight. "You should get some sleep," he murmured, watching her lips curve into a smile to answer his eyes. She dropped her eyes, then raised them back up to his, her lip caught between her teeth.

"Goodnight, Sully." Her voice a whisper, her tone communicating so many things left unsaid. For now.

Smiling, he backed up a step. His gaze held hers, the warmth and mutual admiration – affection – still between them. "Night." His voice an echoing whisper, his tone echoing hers, not breaking the sentiment of the night. He waited then, watching her retreat into the cozy homestead, to settle in for the night with her children.

fin


End file.
